If Everyone Knew
by em1988
Summary: The Winchesters think they know everything, but there are some things they still have left to learn. Enter the mysterious Emily, who while teaching Sam and Dean a few life lessons, learns some of her own.


His short dark hair framed his devilish eyes, the collar of his leather jacket turned up, barely showing his toned physique.

Of course when I first saw him I noticed none of this, it was much later when I came to my senses and had the revelation. Once the danger had passed. If fact one of the first things I noticed was his mouth, the lips slightly parted, showing just hinting at his worry.

He held out his hand, and instinct took over; I took it immediately. I could tell somehow he was the sort of man who would stand and fight, and not the sort to run from danger. But I altered that mission statement. He had to get me out of there; I was in his eyes a damsel in distress, a liability.

I considered myself no damsel in desperate search of a prince, but I had gotten myself into a very dangerous situation and needed help desperately. I was only too glad to accept his help.

He led me like a child, shielding me, silently urging me on, his rapid breath the only hint of the urgency of his task. He radiated reassurance, yet he never spoke a word while we were escaping. I wasn't scared, not with him. Not that would ever admit to ever being scared. But I really wasn't.

I was barely paying attention to my surroundings, just on following him. So the first thing I noticed was his body stiffening and his pace slow slightly, he seemed to become if possible more dominant and assertive.

When he held out his arm I wasn't surprised, just unsure of what could have halted him. Something bad was my immediate thought.

I froze and strained my eyes in the darkness, searching and listening for anything to explain his behaviour. I heard only silence, and saw nothing untoward. But I saw him shift nervously.

I crouched slightly and he sensed my movement, his eyes turned to me. He saw the confusion, but acknowledged the strategic position.

That was his first hint that I wasn't entirely ignorant to what was going on; my lack of questions, just silence, no desperate need to know, keeping your mouth shut in my line of work can mean the difference between life and death. I let my eyes do the talking

He reached his hand out again, and pulled me towards him. Close enough to see his pupils dilated from the adrenaline, as mine no doubt were. Close enough to smell him, the sweat and metallic scent of blood. With his other hand he pulled a gun from the back of his trousers. His second hint; I showed no surprise or no fear over the appearance of the firearm.

Whether he picked up on any of this I still have no idea, I presume not, he seemed entirely focused on whatever had disturbed him

Then I heard it. A low moan. Almost human. Then I knew. We were in far more danger than I could ever have envisaged. From my position, nearly enveloped in his arms, I felt his heart pound. He was scared. My breath caught in my chest, we had no chance to escape now. He knew we were trapped, and I was now a distraction, a liability, there is nothing worse than an innocent bystander getting in the way. His focus split from defending an innocent.

I decided this was no time to be meek, and I showed my hand. I pulled the blade from its sheath on my forearm, which up until then had remained hidden. His eyes glimpsed at the reflective blade, puzzlement in his eyes. I shook my head slightly and held it firmly, my face set he let the question drop.

Now I took his hand, and held it palm up in mine, I moved the tip of the knife to his hand and hovered above it. The indecision mounted in my head. He didn't move his hand; instead he steadied my hand holding the knife and lowered the tip to his skin. Now he knew, and he trusted me.

I dragged the blade across his palm; he didn't even wince as it began to ooze blood.

The tip of the blade now red, I moved towards the noise, now becoming louder, more high pitched and scream like. He moved to follow, but now it was my turn to hold out my arm. He looked at me reproachfully, and I returned his gaze. He eventually looked away and took a small step back, this was one situation he couldn't be the knight in shining armour.

I moved cautiously, knowing I would have only one chance. My entire body tensed at the slightest noise. Then I saw it. The source of the noise. She was beautiful, long white hair and a grey dress. Her eyes entirely white, so I couldn't tell if her focus was on me or the body on the floor near her. She screeched, and I presumed she had noticed my interruption. I was glad to see the body stir. I kept the blade concealed behind me. Waiting for the right moment to strike.

She was quick, too quick; she caught me off guard. I barely had time to register her movement, before I felt her fingers at my throat. I struggled, but she held me firmly. My arm holding the knife, pinned to my side, by her remarkable strength. No doubt from her victim. As I felt my head pound and everything began to swim, she released her grasp on my arm and instead stroked a finger down my cheek, baring her teeth, taking obvious pleasure from my suffering.

The knife slipped from my grasp, and everything went dark.

The first sense to return was my hearing, all I could hear was this loud rushing noise, and my own heart pounding, then I heard her screech. My stomach lurched for a moment, and as my sight returned I was unaware of which way was up, the world swayed, I clutched at the floor for support.

I saw the legs of someone approach, he picked up the blade. I closed my eyes. He wouldn't, he couldn't be that stupid. I heard her keening, then a more deep a painful sound, that cut to the core. Then nothing.

I felt a hand on my shoulder, I opened my eyes. Eventually they focused on him. He seemed very worried. He was bleeding from several cuts on his face and there was a largish blood stain on his shirt.

"She's dead."

He roughly hoisted me to my feet, steadying me as I began to sway. Now I wanted to ask questions, thousands of them. But I kept my mouth shut, more from the lingering feeling of nausea than anything. He left me standing while he went to help her victim, male, surprisingly still alive. We made a quick exit, none of us wanted to hang around.

I should have left and never looked back, I didn't _need_ details. I was safe for the time being, yet something made me stay. We sat in a café just down the street from the hospital. I stared into my coffee cup; full and stone cold. Neither of us had said anything. I grimaced at the table and then spoke up.

"You're a Winchester aren't you?"

His head snapped up, "… How…"

"Only a Winchester is brash and reckless enough to do what you just did. I should know; your father stuck his neck out for me like that a few years ago. The only hunter I know who would. Except his son's apparently."

"You're a hunter?!"

"Don't look so surprised," I murmured softly. "You faced off a banshee, how the hell did you resist her?"

"Willpower."

I scoffed, "Yeah, because that's what men are known for!"

"How do you know so much?"

"Don't you?"

"Not about other hunter's."

"Winchesters are infamous in the hunting world."

"Now what?"

"What the hell do you mean?" I asked aggressively.

"You apparently know so such about me, and I know nothing about you. Other than you're a hunter, with a reasonably good knowledge about banshees."

"You mean everyone doesn't know about banshee?" I asked sarcastically, smiling. "The name's Emily, I've hunted since college. Just part time mind you."

"Part time?!"

"I have a 9-5 job"

"As a…"

"…Secretary"

"So, secretary by day, demon fighter by night. Do you have a costume to go with your hidden identity?"

"Hey I have to make a living somehow. So was I rescued by Dean or by Sam?"

"Dean…"

"Well introductions over, I really have to get going."

"Hold up we've just said our greetings, and now you're going to say goodbye."

"Yep, hello, goodbye." I stood up, and unfurled a few bills for the un-drunk coffee. He didn't stop me, so not a true gentleman. "And thank you." I walked out, and was very tempted to look behind to see whether he watched me leave, I didn't. So what if he had.


End file.
